


Ten

by WanderingBandurria



Series: ComfortMiniFest [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Australia, Awkward Conversations, Fluff and Humor, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingBandurria/pseuds/WanderingBandurria
Summary: In a world without Voldemort, Sirius knocks on the door of Remus Lupin’s home, with a solid game plan. A solid game plan that goes to hell after approximately 10 seconds after he opens his mouth.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: ComfortMiniFest [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931170
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Ten

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! so this fic was also for the Wolfstar Comfort Minifest, hosted by SwottyPotter on Tumblr. This was for day 5, an apology. 
> 
> So, this is a weird fic. I would call it hopeful, open-ended with some humour. It's definitely in the realm of hurt/comfort. Hope you guys liked it, I enjoyed writing this one!
> 
> Thanks so much to my beta, LikeABellThroughTheNight for all the help with my writing and for correcting all these short fics in record time. You are amazing.
> 
> Still, this was written quite rushedly so if you spot any misspell or phrases that sound too weird, please let me know! English is not my first language and I love learning more about it!
> 
> Let me know what you think about it in the comments!

He’s not sure how each of his decisions ended up taking him to this place - in front of this highly unremarkable door, with the number ten painted on it in blue. Still, he feels more alive and like this is the most right thing he’s done in the last ten years.

Funny that, how everything seems to revolve around _ten_ at this moment. Unit ten, where he might find a person he hasn’t seen in ten years - who knew him better than anyone for ten years, to then turn into a stranger. Ten is the date of Remus’ birthday too, although that’s not until another six more months, and ten is the number of breaths he takes before knocking on the door.

He waits for three seconds - he’s considering knocking again because he might not have done it loud enough, when the door bursts open and in front of him appears Remus.

Sirius’ heart jumps in his chest.

They look at each other for a second. Remus’ hair is greying, and there are deep purple marks under his eyes. He’s wearing a faded t-shirt that is a bit too small for him - it’s a t-shirt that Sirius recognizes, with a painful mixture of regret and hope, as the one he gifted him for his 18th birthday, over 12 years ago. The shirt clings to Remus’ sides and shows the small belly that Remus now has. Sirius eyes the faded scars on his arms. He doesn’t think he recognizes any new one.

All that Sirius knows is that he’s already breathless to the point he feels almost dizzy, and his heart is beating like crazy. Remus looks shocked, his eyes wide open, and Sirius could swear that the colour is a bit brighter than it used to be back in the year when they were… Well, they were a _they_.

“Sirius?” Remus says under his breath, and his voice makes chills run down Sirius’ spine.

“I,” Sirius starts, keeping his eyes firmly on Remus’ brown ones while taking a deep breath. “Hi, Remus,” he finally says, smirking in spite of himself. _What an idiot_ , he thinks to himself and _what the hell am I doing_ , because he’s standing at the door of his ex, smirking like it’s just a regular _Tuesday_ \- of all days, couldn’t he choose a lamer one? -, like he’s here just to joke and have some playful banter with an old friend.

Remus’ throat bobs up and down, and he opens and closes his mouth. Sirius looks hopefully over his shoulder. He’s genuinely curious about how Remus’ flat, how _Remus’ life_ , looks like. He also hopes that Remus gets the hint that he wants to get in because he’s knackered and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stay on his feet much longer, but there’s no luck there, because Remus stays firmly on the threshold, grabbing it with his long, slim fingers, blocking the way in.

“What are you doing here?” Remus asks in the end, pulling himself together. “Merlin’s beard, what the fuck is going on, is James alright?” he asks then, rushing a bit, but still mostly collected.

“Yeah, no, he’s alright,” Sirius stumbles with the words, not having pictured this scenario. He’s not sure what he was hoping, maybe a _you are here_ , said with a breathy voice, or, if he dares to confess to himself, he might have fantasized with his half-asleep brain, of Remus’ arms around his neck and Remus muttering in his ear _I’ve missed you_. It actually makes a lot more sense that Remus thinks this is about James, and he feels his stomach sinking with his heart. He knows that James may be the only thing they still have in common. “I’m, well… Can I come in? Can we talk?”

Remus seems to think about it for a second, looking surprised at his arm, like he hadn’t realized how defensive his stance is. Sirius feels fidgety, so he changes his weight from foot to foot to deal with his nervousness. Finally, Remus sighs and moves to the side, gesturing to Sirius to get inside, while he asks, “Sounds serious, are you okay?”

Sirius nods as he walks in, and moves to Remus’ couch in the middle of the room. Without waiting for an invitation, he flops down, sighing contentedly. He just got off a plane, went to a crappy hotel in a Muggle taxi that cost more than he expected, and then took another overpriced cab to get here. His back is aching and his legs burn, so he’ll skip the pretend-politeness this time.

He glances quickly around the room, not wanting to seem too nosey. He can see a couple of drawings in the walls (he thinks he sees a cock in full display in one of them, but he resists the urge to stare at it) and a painting with small, coloured dots - he thinks is aboriginal art, and it’s quite gorgeous. The flat is luminous and small, and there are some books scattered around, which makes Sirius smile fondly at the memories of their own flat where he used to trip with books left in the most unexpected places. In front of him, there’s a black coffee table with a bowl with potpourri on it. _How middle-aged of Remus_ , he thinks, resisting the urge to snigger and point it out to his host. He’s not sure the joke would be well appreciated right now.

“I’m alright,” he says, fixing his eyes back on Remus. “I think I’m better than I’ve been in _years_ ,” he says, meaningfully, and he sees Remus swallowing hard, so he thinks he might see where this is going. “I came here to say that I’m sorry, Remus. I’m so sorry for, well, _everything_ , for not listening to you, for making decision after decision that ended up forcing you to move here, for…” and thus far things are going okay, he thinks, because he had rehearsed this part, only that he hadn’t considered that Remus might interrupt him.

“You didn’t force me to move here, Sirius,” Remus says, sitting in the chair in front of him a bit too stiffly. He massages his forehead with his thumb and forefinger, in a gesture that Sirius is not sure he recognizes. “Did you come halfway across the world, _ten_ years after our breakup, just to tell me this, Sirius?” and Sirius swallows as he nods, because there’s something tired and cold in Remus’ tone. “You couldn’t say it in a letter, maybe ask Lily about how to use a telephone?”

“I…” Sirius trails off, his mind blank and the words of the monologue he had prepared swimming in front of him, just out of reach, mockingly. He swallows again, trying to put some order in his head. He should have anticipated this scenario, _goddamn it_. “I left the family business. I’m no longer a part of _the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_ ,” he blurts out, suddenly, and as soon as the words come out of his mouth he groans and lets his face fall in his hands. This is not coming across as he wanted. He knows how he sounds now: like he’s here to get Remus back. Like he’s here, ten years too late, to act like he’s entitled to Remus just because he’s recognizing now that he was right and because he has finally done what any other human being would have done at least five years ago: leave that soul-wrenching, pest on the world, inhumane _thing_ that the Blacks call the _family business_.

“Well, good for you, if you wanted that, but…” and Remus does that gesture over his forehead again, and closes his eyes.

“No, I’m sorry, Remus, this is coming out all wrong. I’m not telling you this to make you accept me back into your life or, or,” he swallows, because he realizes he really, really does want to be back on Remus’ life, but he pushes past the idea of blurting that out, because it’s not fair to Remus to ask for it. “I mean, I know you have a life here, and I know I have no right to reappear out of the blue and disrupt it. I know that an apology might not change anything and it probably serves me more than it serves you, but you know, Remus, you deserve to know that you were right, completely right, and that you didn’t do anything wrong, and that you have nothing to regret and that…” he goes on and on, looking at Remus with desperation, cringing at every word, realizing how he’s hitting all the _wrong_ notes. _What a prick_ , he thinks, _who do I think I am_ , he thinks with desperation, but the words keep pouring out of his mouth.

Remus goes more and more stiff with every word that Sirius says, his eyes big in his face, his lips quivering. Sirius can almost guess his next words, _I don’t need your approval for living my life, I don’t need you telling me that I was right, I never thought I did anything wrong, you are just an entitled prick that doesn’t understand what ten years mean for the rest of us because you got stuck in your frozen, childish little life that never changed..._

But Remus doesn’t say any of that. He just bursts into laughter, interrupting Sirius effectively.

Sirius looks at him, dumbfounded.

“Oh, Merlin. I never thought I would live to the day where I would see Sirius Black flustered and rambling, and saying so many things that are _wrong_ , while he knows it,” he says, still smiling, the traces of his laughter still in his eyes. Remus shakes his head indulgently then and takes his wand out from his pocket. “Do you want tea? Or maybe coffee?” he asks, softly and sweetly, like Sirius hasn’t just stumbled over his tongue.

“Yeah, coffee, please,” he agrees, miserably. “Can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to come here without sleeping off the jetlag,” he pulls softly at his hair, his eyes fixing on his knees.

“Wait, did you come here straight from the airport?” Remus asks, and Sirius looks at him from between his eyelashes, ashamed, just to see him still waving his wand, making two cups fly in from where Sirius assumes is the kitchen. Sirius shrugs and nods reluctantly, feeling a flush on his cheeks. Remus laughs again. “Why, that’s very romantic of you, Mr Black,” he says, gasping for air between hiccups of laughter, to then point vaguely at Sirius' shocked expression. “Oh my god, your face right now. Priceless,” he adds, with tears of mirth in his eyes.

“I - no, no, it’s not - ah, bloody hell, Moony,” he says, and he stops himself in his tracks at the use of the old nickname, but Remus just laughs harder, while he grabs his cup of tea, and Sirius picks the cup of coffee that insistently hits him on the arm while he keeps staring and the beautiful sight of _Remus Lupin in a proper fit of laughter_. He smiles tentatively at Remus, gaining confidence at the softness that he still sees in the eyes of this laughing, joyful man that he doesn’t really know anymore.

Remus manages to take a deep breath to calm down, and he dries the tears off his face, sagging back into his chair. He looks at Sirius with a blissful expression, where there’s something that feels almost like affection.

“You are certainly something else, Sirius, coming to find me after ten years, to burst into a half-arsed apology, drink my good coffee, and claim romantic grand gestures,” Remus says, still smiling faintly, so the words come out more teasingly than harsh.

Sirius swallows.

“You could have given me your bad coffee,” he says, trying to joke.

“No such thing here in this country,” Remus says immediately, still smiling, but a bit more impatiently. Sirius’ smile falters and he swallows again.

“I do mean the apology, Moony,” he says, feeling raw on the inside, trying his luck again with the nickname. With relief, he sees how the faint smile stays in Remus’ face, and that lovely blush that he always cherished makes an appearance on Remus’ cheeks.

“I know you do, Padfoot,” Remus answers simply, taking a sip of his tea, like he hadn’t just made Sirius’ heart stop with his own old nickname. “So, did you come straight from the plane, or not?” he asks, putting his teacup on the coffee table and looking at Sirius with curiosity.

“Mh, not straight from the airport - I had to stop to buy some new clothes and then to shower at the hotel. It wouldn’t do to see you all sweaty and plane-smelly, would it? But I did go directly to the airport from my office at Grimmauld place, after smashing everything in it,” he says, smiling tiredly, deciding to go through this conversation without hiding anything else - not his idiocy and jokes, nor his vulnerability, and what’s now clear for him, his feelings for this man, that haven’t gone _anywhere_.

Remus nods like he understands. Maybe he does. He did say over ten years ago that Sirius accepting to go back to his family, even if it was to be there for his brother, and even if he intended to do so to make their business more ethical and humane, would end up with Sirius’ soul crushed, or with him burning the place down. Sirius thinks it did a bit of both to him, in the end.

“Moony, Remus,” Sirius starts again, after a few seconds of silence in which Remus looks at him in a way that Sirius is not sure what it means. “I know you have a life here. It might have been stupid to not contact you myself, but at the beginning, I wanted to respect the fact that you needed space, and then I didn’t know how to reach out without sounding like a creep, but I _do_ know about your life because of what James and Lily have told me. I never stopped asking about you, never stopped caring. I know you have a job at a University, and I know you like it here. I know you are happy, and that you probably don’t need my apology, but you deserve it nonetheless. A proper one. I know how many doubts you had about my decision of going back to my family and how it made you feel like you were never my priority, but I promise you, you were. I know my decision of breaking things up was…”

“Sirius,” Remus interrupts him, softly this time, and he seems a bit awkward with the words about their past relationship, with Sirius’ implications about the effects of their break up in his life. “I understand that you might think differently, but I don’t need to revisit my past. I’m at peace with it. I’ll tell you what, I don’t _need_ an apology, nor reparation. What I _want_ , on the other hand, is to know everything about you coming up with the decision to leave everything behind and come here. What I _want_ is to know how long are you staying here, to know if I can take you on a tour around the city. What I _want_ is to get to know you, because frankly, we are basically strangers now. What I want is for you to stay for as long as you planned to, and see where things go from there, because from what I’ve gathered thus far, you are still a funny, impulsive man that I would very much want to get to know, not because we were together in the past, nor because you thought you might get me back, without even considering if I had a partner - which I don’t, by the way,” and he actually winks at Sirius, making his mouth fall open, because, actually, Remus’s right, he doesn’t know this man that is heavily implying, without even stuttering, that they might have another shot; this man that doesn’t seem to be hurt by the past but actually trying actively to avoid it and push towards the future. “No, that’s not why I want to get to know you now, when all I wanted was to close the door on your face when I first saw you. I want to get to know you because you were a wonderful person, and more importantly, I think you might still be. And well, also because I have a weak spot for airport scenes so the idea of you, running to the airport, buying a ticket _for the next plane to Sydney, please,_ and maybe even obliviating some Muggles to get into it,” he adds, and Sirius looks so guilty that Remus laughs, “without even a change of clothes, with no game plan, it’s too good of a story to not have the proper context to tell later to everyone I know, or to have it as a new origin’s story,” he says, smiling broadly.

Sirius swallows and nods, smiling back at Remus. He’s not sure about how smart _all of this is_ , and he agrees that they don’t really know each other, but everything that Remus is offering sounds so much better than everything he had over the past ten years, except from Regulus, James, Lily and Harry, of course. He’s been so numb for so long, and he knows he’ll need to figure out a life plan that goes beyond _Remus Lupin_ , where he finds things he loves and he’s passionate about.

But starting here, at meeting Remus _again_ , sounds like a good idea.

“Yeah,” he says in the end, laughing while he picks up his coffee again and sips on it. “Well. As you know now, I have no job to go back, and as you pointed out, no game plan, apparently. So, what about this? You can take me to a few of the iconic places in the city, I can fall asleep on the Muggle public transportation and tell you about the fall out of my relationship with my family _again_ , and the rise of my decision to do what I want to do. What do you think?”

Remus smiles once again, openly, wonderfully. Sirius can’t believe how lucky he is to have decided to come to find this man, who is here, here, willing to get to know him, to _almost_ start over, and to do so based on who they are now, with their old, tired hearts. This man who doesn’t want to talk about the past (well, Sirius might need to work on that so that they have a real shot, but for now, he can wait), but wants mostly to build in the present.

“Sounds good. Give me ten minutes to get my jacket and we’ll be on our way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/Kudos make me very happy if you want to leave them.  
> You can come to chat with me on [Tumblr](https://wanderingbandurria.tumblr.com/).


End file.
